


Inevitable

by miyeokguk



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Jealousy, Lee Howon | Hoya & Lee Sungjong - Freeform, M/M, Panic Attacks, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyeokguk/pseuds/miyeokguk
Summary: Sunggyu only sees Sungyeol.  Hoya is getting fed up and jealous.





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sasofy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasofy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [마음](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696265) by [sasofy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasofy/pseuds/sasofy). 



> Warning for mentions of panic attacks. 
> 
> To Sasofy: I imagined why Hoya was so upset about the situation. I hope you enjoy!

 

“So, like I was saying,” Hoya clears his throat and Sungjong’s head snaps up, his dark hair swishing across his forehead.  

“Yes?  About the midterm?”   

Hoya waits another beat.  His scowl deepens when Sunggyu doesn’t bother to even pretend like he’s paying attention.  Sunggyu keeps checking his phone, rubbing his thumbs over and over the lock screen like a message notification is somehow lurking out of view and he has to coax it out of hiding.  

“Never mind about that,” Hoya sighs, trying to swallow down his anger with another bite of rice.  He knows it’s unreasonable, expecting Sunggyu to pay attention to him every time he craves his friend’s gaze, his friend’s thoughtful smiles.  And deep in his gut Hoya knows he’s already run out of time, that his chances have all slipped by, and that inevitable feeling just makes the anger burn in twisting lines through his chest.  Is this what a heart attack feels like?  He’s too young for that to happen, right?

“Um… Hyung?”  Hoya turns his head to find Sungjong poking him in the shoulder over and over.  The pressure of his insistent finger is somewhat deadened by the layer of Hoya’s wool jacket, but he should still feel something through the heavy cloth, right?  It makes sense that he’s numb on the inside (the only way Hoya knows to get rid of the anger is to cut off the flow of his feelings altogether), but his external nerve endings shorting out is just-- 

“Ridiculous,” Sunggyu snorts across the table from Hoya, his breath soft and nasal.  He’s still staring at his phone, shoulders hunched forward under his baggy flannel shirt.  Hoya has no idea what he’s looking at or why he hasn’t touched any of his side dishes yet.  It’s probably another stupid text from stupid Sungyeol, the tall guy from Hoya’s Music Theory II class.  

Sungyeol, who also cheats at drinking games because he’s a sore loser, and always smells like perfume, had invited himself to Hoya’s weekly study date with Sunggyu at the beginning of the term and never stopped coming.  The uninvited study group member has become the latest appendage to their lunch group as well.  He always takes the seat next to Sunggyu.  It’s funny that Sungyeol isn’t eating with them right now, Hoya thinks, but who cares about Sungyeol.  He probably just doesn’t like today’s menu.       

“Hyung, Sunggyu hyung,” Hoya calls across the table.  He tries to smile this time, hoping the forced relaxation of his muscles will also release the tension from his voice.  He has a voice lesson at 1 pm.  Ms. Kyung has him working on Italian arias this semester.  Sappy, schmaltzy songs with lyrics about one-sided love.  Hoya low key hates the selections he’s forced to practice for his upcoming recital, especially since Sungjong hums whimsical variations of the tunes over and over when they’re trying to study.  It’s like Hoya can’t get away from those songs.  He’s even dreamed one of them.  

“What?”  Sunggyu looks up, finally, and he’s smiling at Hoya but he’s not really smiling _at_ Hoya.  The look in his eyes, even if his gaze is looking across the table to Hoya, is focused on someone else, somewhere else.  Hoya’s stomach burns.  

“Hyung, eat your soup.  You have a voice lesson in half an hour,” Sungjong says, and it’s a relief to Hoya that he can feel the slide of Sungjong’s thumb stroking across his wrist.  At least some part of himself does not feel totally numb.  

“I shouldn’t eat doenjang jjigae before practice anyway,” Hoya mutters, “too salty.  It’ll dry out my throat.  Here, you can finish the rest.”  He shoves his lunch tray over and stares at Sunggyu’s untouched bowl.  It’s cold now, their food.  Sungjong doesn’t seem to mind.  He picks up his spoon and tucks into Hoya’s leftovers, stirring cold rice into the lukewarm broth.  Knowing him, he’ll probably start on Sunggyu’s tray next if they sit here long enough.

“Oh, shi--”  Sunggyu’s chair clatters backward as he jumps up.  It knocks into the seat of a long haired girl behind him.  She whirls around to glare but Sunggyu doesn’t seem to notice.  “Hello?  Yeol?  Can you hear me?  Hello?”  Sunggyu presses his phone to his ear.  His other hand lifts to ruffle the short, wavy strands of his hair.  It’s still dyed a light brown color, a summertime shade, even though it’s mid October now.  

“Hyung, can I eat the rest of your--”

Sunggyu waves Sungjong off with a frown, already backing towards the double doors of the cafeteria.  He doesn’t even bother to fit the straps of his backpack on his back, just swings them from his fist.  “Can you say that again, Sungyeol?  I’m having trouble hearing--”

And then Sunggyu’s voice is out of range, his words getting lost in the chatter of students all around them.  Hoya’s head is threatening to explode from all the noise.  He fights the urge to stand up and follow Sunggyu out of this circus of raucous laughter and soup splattered tables.  It smells like bean paste soup in here, salty and stinging and fermented.    

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sungjong announces.  He lifts Sunggyu’s abandoned bowl onto his tray and starts fishing in the dark broth for lumps of potato and squash.  

  
  
They leave the cafeteria exactly on time for Hoya to get to his voice lesson, with just enough leeway to stop at the water fountain and refill their bottles.  The soup was too salty.  Cafeteria food always is.  Hoya’s throat burns.

“I wonder where Sunggyu hyung went in such a hurry,” Sungjong says to the ceiling as he waits for his turn at the refill station.

“Isn’t it obvious.”  Some of the water spills on Hoya’s wrist as he pulls his bottle away from the tap.  “Sungyeol is doing it again.”  They’re probably together now, Sunggyu and Sungyeol, considering that Sunggyu went tearing out of the cafeteria a good twenty minutes ago.  Sungyeol has probably lured Sunggyu to some dark corner of the building again, using that same old excuse of a panic attack to send Sunggyu running to his side.

The thing that bothers Hoya about it all is the way Sunggyu feels obligated.  He’s missed most of their weekly study groups this month.  He doesn’t tell anyone he’s not going to make it, but then he knocks on Hoya’s door after midnight, ready to complain about Sungyeol.  How Sungyeol is so immature, so unpredictable.  How Sungyeol is so obnoxious, bragging about himself and then demanding reassurance when his bravado swings into insecurity.  It’s the same after-midnight conversation everytime, without fail.  

The last time, instead of just nodding along in vague sympathy, Hoya had told Sunggyu what he really thinks.  That Sungyeol is just being manipulative.  That Sungyeol needs to grow up.  That yeah, Sungyeol’s anxiety seems like a real problem, and therefore he needs professional help and not just Sunggyu’s shoulder to cry on.  That Sunggyu is going to fail his classes and end up an emotional wreck himself if he keeps skipping study group to listen to Sungyeol have another meltdown.  

“Hey, can we stop at the bathroom?”  Sungjong tugs on the cuff of Hoya’s jacket.  Hoya’s water spills again before he can screw the lid on his bottle.  “Oops, sorry,” Sungjong says.  He brushes the water droplets off the back of Hoya’s hand with his thumb.  “I hafta pee.”

“Fine, but don’t take too long or I’m leaving without you.”  Hoya can feel his face turning red.  The fact that Sungjong is so frank about his needs and wants, almost like a small child in how he admits them so openly, embarrasses Hoya.  Perhaps it’s second hand embarrassment, but it also feels a bit like envy.  

Hoya shakes his hand loose from Sungjong’s fingers and shoves him down the hall towards the bathroom.  There’s one closer to the cafeteria on this floor, but that one is bound to have a line at the end of the lunch hour, even outside of the men’s room.

They both stop short as they round the corner.  Sungjong’s sneakers skid and he kicks the back of Hoya’s heel.  Sunggyu is at the end of the hall, just outside the bathroom.  Even though he’s far enough away that Hoya can’t make out what he’s saying to Sungyeol he gets the gist of it from Sunggyu’s wide eyed expression.

They’re _holding hands_ , for goodness’ sake.  Sungyeol’s face is red, and probably tear streaked, but it’s hard to tell from this distance.  He’s looking away from Sunggyu and shaking his head, _no, no_ , but he’s also leaning in towards Sunggyu’s shorter frame.  Like he wants to pull away and draw closer at the same time.  Hoya understands the feeling, the same conflict pulling threads of anger and envy taut through his chest.  

“Shh.”  He gestures for Sungjong to be quiet and shuffles a few paces farther down the hall.

“Wha--”  

Hoya presses Sungjong’s face to the shoulder of his jacket to shut him up and tugs him behind a potted tree.  This is absolutely ridiculous, hiding behind a potted plant to spy on his friend.  Hoya knows this, but he can’t walk away.  He also can’t walk forward, can’t step out to push Sungyeol’s hand out of Sunggyu’s, unlike the scenario his mind is rapidly spinning through.

“But I have to go to the--”

Hoya shakes his head, hard.  He glances at Sungjong’s worried face but decides to ignore his friend’s discomfort.  Sungjong is probably feeling guilty, feeling bad for intruding on Sungyeol and Sunggyu’s conversation, but if they really wanted privacy they wouldn’t be _holding hands_ in the university hallway outside a public restroom.  Hoya leans forward and tries to listen. 

“I--I don’t want you to pity me,” Sungyeol says, and Hoya can tell from the thickness in Sungyeol’s voice that the kid is crying again.  Sobbing, really.  Hoya feels the the lunch he had managed to swallow down twisting up in his stomach as disgust threatens to overpower his anger now.  He can’t stand watching Sunggyu being-- being taken advantage of like this.  

Sungyeol shakes his arm loose from Sunggyu’s hold and turns, and Hoya’s heart beats faster. _Yes, run away.  Go now and leave Sunggyu alone!  He’s too good for--_

“Wait a second.  What did you say?”  Sunggyu’s voice is incredulous, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide open, but Hoya doesn’t fail to notice the tenderness couching the words.  It’s not an accusation, it’s a reassurance.  Like he wants to be here for Sungyeol to lean on.  Like this is more than just a friendly obligation.

“Hyung, maybe we should--”  

Hoya hisses at Sungjong’s whisper and shakes his arm free.  He’s beyond words at this point, just a tumble of ugly emotions beating in his throat, his mouth, clouding up his eyes--  They’re still talking at the end of the hall but Hoya can only hear his own breaths rising shallower and shallower in his chest.  He can’t show up at Ms. Kyung’s studio like this.  If he tries to sing he’ll have an asthma attack and pass out on the piano bench.  He can’t--

“Didn’t it cross your mind that maybe I’m doing it because I want to?”  Sunggyu’s voice is louder, and there, yes, now Hoya can hear the tension in his hyung’s voice, the frustration and the confusion he continually vents to Hoya in private.  But now, finally, he’s expressing some of it to Sungyeol directly.  Finally, he’s taking Hoya’s advice.  

And it’s about time, too.  Besides the after-midnight sessions, Sunggyu’s also spent the last month and a half texting Hoya almost daily with complaints about Sungyeol.  How Sungyeol is inconsiderate, and selfish.  How he takes and needs and is so dependent on Sunggyu, so insecure about every--  

“Because--” Sunggyu starts to go on, and _oh no_ , Hoya can feel the triumph melting out of his chest as Sunggyu’s frustration softens into that tenderness again, the disgusting softness he seems to have for Sungyeol’s neediness despite Hoya’s better advice, and--

“As if…”  Sungyeol cuts him off, but his voice is so choked up that Hoya can barely make out the words.  Sungyeol shakes his head and tears flash in the fluorescent lights dangling from the ceiling.  “As if anyone would want to see this…”

Sungyeol, the childish brat who can’t leave Sunggyu alone -- he at least seems to understand the situation better than Sunggyu.  Sunggyu who can’t leave well enough alone.  Sunggyu who thinks every messed up, angsty underclassman in the Applied Music department is some kitten that needs rescuing but for some reason has never noticed the lostness in Hoya’s eyes.  That’s why Hoya is angry.  That’s why he can’t stand this manipulative game for any longer.  He’s terrified he’ll lose his friend, Sunggyu.  He’s terrified he’s already lost him.  

“You’re too good at covering it up with anger, hyung,” Sungjong whispers, and Hoya hates that he can hear Sungjong so clearly, the softness in Sungjong’s voice that’s been getting harder and harder to ignore.  He didn’t sign up for this, this one-sided ridiculousness on both sides.  “Covering up your feelings, I mean.  You should’ve just… just told Sunggyu hyung, but--”

Sungjong cuts off with a sharp gasp when Sunggyu grabs Sungyeol’s wrist again, as if this were an anime and not the freaking hallway outside the public restroom with all of the noise of the emptying cafeteria still trickling down from the other end of the corridor.  Then Sunggyu leans up to kiss Sungyeol, and Hoya finally, finally looks away.  He turns towards Sungjong and watches the soft smile on Sungjong’s lips bloom as he watches them _kiss_   -- well, that smile makes Hoya angry, too.  Just for good measure.  

He feels somehow betrayed, and that, too, is ridiculous.  Because even Sungjong knows that it’s the other way around.  Sunggyu wants to kiss Sungyeol, he _wants_  to, and it’s Hoya who is not good enough for--

“Hyung, let’s use the other bathroom.  There’s probably not a line anymore, because classes are starting now.”

Hoya lets himself be dragged back towards the cafeteria, the light and noise from the big dining hall increasing in intensity as they approach.  Sungjong’s fingers are gentle around his wrist and Hoya is so sorry, so guilty.  He shouldn’t ignore Sungjong any longer but he’s not sure how to shift, how to pull out of the hold of these feelings inside himself and let it all go.  

It was inevitable from the beginning, from the first time Sunggyu smiled at him two and a half years ago.  Hoya had felt Sunggyu’s smile go through him even that first time, like Sunggyu was staring at him but focusing on someone else, somewhere else.  

Sungjong releases his wrist, just long enough to lace their fingers together.  Hoya lets him.  He doesn’t let go until they get to the bathroom door.  He’s going to be late for his voice lesson, but Hoya’s not sure he can make his voice sing today, anyway.  It all feels too tight today.  Everything is too tight, except for Sungjong’s gentle grasp, the softness of his fingers, and Hoya feels his anger start to melt out and make a puddle on the dirty tile floor.  If this is all inevitable, he might as well let go.     

“Hyung?”  Sungjong is holding the door open for him, waiting.  

“Thanks,” Hoya says as he ducks inside, and he means it this time.   _Thanks for seeing me._

Sungjong smiles.  He lets the door swing shut, blocking out the noise from the hall.  

  
  
  



End file.
